


The Cat in the (Sorting) Hat

by explodingsnapple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, POV Minerva McGonagall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-26 18:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingsnapple/pseuds/explodingsnapple
Summary: What does an Animagus do when they're sick? Sneak into the Headmaster's office and take a nap, of course.





	The Cat in the (Sorting) Hat

**Author's Note:**

> An older version of this was originally posted on my FFNet account, and I decided to edit it slightly and post it here as well because I rather liked the concept.

_ 16 October 1993 _

It is 4:00 in the morning and Minerva McGonagall is extraordinarily fed-up with the war her sinuses are currently waging (and winning) against her skull and throat.

She doesn't have time for this. The first-year Ravenclaws and Slytherins had the absolute _audacity_ to turn in the most _abysmal_ essays on switching spells that she has ever had the displeasure to read, and, for some reason, Albus is forcing her to grade them instead of throwing the whole lot into the fireplace. Reading them while healthy is hard enough; she'll never be able to finish the few she has remaining _and_ fight off the flu at the same time.

Obviously, her immune system does not share the same sense of practicality that her brain does, which is the only explanation for why she now finds herself awake at an unearthly hour with a pounding headache.

Groaning, Minerva drags herself out of bed. Her room is much too cold to sleep in, the sheets are scratchy, and she can hear Mrs. Norris pacing (actually, stomping) around just outside her door, making it impossible for her to even attempt to fall back asleep. Profoundly irritated now, she pulls on her dressing-gown and decides to go for a walk, hoping that it will warm her up enough to avoid Madam Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potion in the morning (which she's pretty sure does absolutely nothing for her health, and only serves to make her look like a smokestack, despite Poppy's insistence of the contrary).

As is usually the case on Saturday mornings, the corridors are completely empty, without even a ghost in sight. There's a slight chill in the air, and Minerva pulls her dressing-gown closer around her as she walks around. Briefly, she considers heading to the kitchens to see what the House-Elves are up to, but she decides against it – it is, unfortunately, quite unbecoming for a professor to ask for sugary treats at abnormal hours, despite how much she wants to do so. 

Minerva keeps walking until she reached the Gargoyle statue guarding the Headmaster's office. Out of sheer curiosity, she decides to peep inside, despite knowing there wouldn't be anyone there at this time of day. “Lemon Drops,” she croaks, and the doors swing open.

Fawkes the Phoenix eyes her wearily from his perch in the corner. Years ago, she celebrated earning her Animagus license by chasing him around the quidditch pitch (which, as Albus would remark later, was one of the few moments where her true Gryffindor colors showed), and ever since, the bird has shown his disdain for her by leaving little “presents” near her belongings. She silently wishes for him to burst into flames.

The headmaster's office is much warmer than the rest of the castle, despite the fact that there is no fireplace – she strongly suspects magical intervention for the temperature and makes a mental note to ask Albus for the spell later. The relative silence and the faint scent of cinnamon in the air makes the whole room seem quite inviting, so Minerva closes the door and sits down in the armchair behind the desk, much to the chagrin of the various portraits surrounding her – Dilys Derwent, in particular, keeps insisting that she leave the room immediately before she spreads her illness to Albus. Minerva pays no attention to them, and instead busies herself with tidying up the area before her. Really, it was a wonder anything got done in the school, because Albus must be the most disorganized person under its roof.

Just as she finishes compiling a stack of overdue library books, Fawkes decides to perch himself on Minerva's shoulder and starts pecking at her braid. She tries swatting the bird away, but he squawks at her in retaliation and continues in his quest to unravel her hair. _ Stupid thing,_ she thinks, before realizing that she's being stupid herself. 

Two minutes later, she's chasing Fawkes around the office. She jumps onto the Sorting Hat's shelf, where Fawkes is now sitting, and hisses, causing the bird to fly away from her. She follows him across the room, almost knocking the Pensieve over with her tail, and Fawkes just misses her claws as he soars out of the window - no doubt to alert his master that there's an intruder in his office. _ I should probably get out of here before Albus finds me,_ Minerva thinks. But the room is so warm, and she's getting tired after all that running. She supposes five minutes of rest wouldn't hurt, since there are still a few hours until breakfast anyway, so she climbs back onto the shelf and gently tips the Sorting Hat up with her paws, settling herself comfortably underneath it.

* * *

“If that is all, Remus, I believe you have a batch of fifth-year Ravenclaws waiting for their lesson. You should probably hurry, as it is their OWL year and there may be nervous breakdowns if the class is canceled.” Dumbledore's voice floats through the room, and Minerva wakes with a start, wondering why it's still dark if her eyes are open. And why is Albus in her bedroom?

She sits up and attempts to rub her eyes, causing the Sorting Hat covering her to fall onto the floor with a thud. Both Professor Dumbledore and Remus - no, Professor Lupin - stare at her in surprise. 

“Professor Dumbledore, sir, may I ask when you got a cat? I don't remember you having one when I was at Hogwarts,” Remus says, slightly confused.

Albus chuckles and replies, “That's not actually a feline. Not only do we have more than enough staff pets, what with Mrs. Norris walking around like she owns the school, but have you ever seen an actual cat sit so stiffly?”

Slightly offended at that comment, Minerva jumps down from the shelf, lands neatly on Albus's hair, and licks his forehead, before climbing down his arm and prancing out of the room, Lupin's astonished gaze following her. That should teach Albus not to insult her – she makes a _fantastic cat_, thank you very much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading!


End file.
